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Introducing Elizabeth Warren

November 21, 2017 by Jana 21 Comments

On September 29, I lost my sidekick/shadow/favorite dog ever, Dobie. If I’m being honest, I’m still not over it and I have yet to go more than 2 days without crying. But I haven’t been the only one suffering. For weeks, Barkley has been doing this with a stuffed dog we put on the couch to make it feel like a second dog was there:

And my daughter’s been struggling as well. Watching her hurt hurts me.

So we had a discussion about getting another dog and while I certainly was in no rush, I agreed to entertain the idea. We talked about it and came up with these criteria: the dog had to come from a local rescue,  couldn’t look anything like Dobie, and had to be free from a heart condition. I agreed to look online (I would not go to a shelter) and if a dog seemed to speak to me, I’d reach out to the rescue and learn what we needed to do.

And one did. And I did.

I put in the adoption application, traumatized my cat with an in-home mobile vet visit (which was a fucking nightmare that ending in my cat running away but at least she’s vaccinated now), and 3 weeks later, Elizabeth Warren came home with us. 

Yes, her formal name is Elizabeth Warren. After THAT Elizabeth Warren. Because she’s smart, capable, determined, strong, admirable, and despite her circumstances, she persisted. We call her Lizzy, though.

The facts: She’s 5, a puppy mill survivor, and while we’re not 100% sure of her breed, we think she’s some sort of Maltese mix. She’s tiny, quiet, trusting, loving, and absolutely the cuddliest little thing. Barkley is happy to have her around (even if he refuses to show it) and the cat has moved from hatred to indifference so we’re making huge progress.

Having her is like having a 5 year old puppy because, with her being used exclusively for breeding, she never learned how to be a dog. So we’re working on housetraining and walking on a leash and getting on a schedule and navigating stairs and socializing and playing with toys and everything you expect a 5 year old dog to know but she doesn’t because life in a breeding box doesn’t allow for that. It’s weird, getting used to teaching the basics again. It’s starting over but thus far, it’s absolutely worth it.

And she’s doing great! Housetraining has been easier than expected and she doesn’t even need to sleep in her crate at night. She has an affinity for blankets (which is great because I have them all over the house), will walk on a leash as long as Barkley is with her, walks up and down stairs when she thinks no one is looking, kind of likes riding in the car, is a little daredevil (she’ll eat from her food dish when it’s ON TOP OF her crate), super curious (she loves her reflection in the fireplace) and will play with anything that’s not actually a dog toy (ex., my apron strings, my phone, a rug, and stuffed matzoh from a toy Seder plate). She’s finally able to get a bath (yay!) and has her very first grooming appointment next month. She’ll also be attending doggie school early next year. And, fun fact, I’ve shown her videos of her namesake and she watches them VERY intently.

I know it seems fast (it was only 6 weeks from Dobie’s passing until Lizzy came home) but I know that no amount of time would be enough. I could wait 6 weeks or 6 months or 2 years, and it still wouldn’t seem right. But she’s fit right in and I see so much of Dobie in her and that’s comforting. I’m trying hard not to make her another rendition of him and letting her be her own quirky self but it’s hard sometimes. I know it’ll get easier, though, and I’m looking forward to that.

Also, if anyone knows of an online store or Etsy shop that sells custom dog clothes, please let me know or send me a link. I want to buy her a shirt.

Filed Under: Life Tagged With: family, pets

Summer statistics

August 29, 2016 by Jana 6 Comments

MY DAUGHTER GOES BACK TO SCHOOL TODAY!!!!

After 12ish (maybe 13) weeks of summer vacation, the school year is upon us. I love my daughter but thank god for school. I need a break from her. She needs a break from me. We need the routine of school. Everyone will be happier.

However, it’s important that we take the time to remember the summer that was. In vague statistics because math is terrible but it’s also the easiest way to break it down. The struggle is real, y’all.

So. The Summer of 2016. In numbers. And in no particular order.

Concerts attended–3. Well, this is sort of cheating because the last one is this Sunday.

Water parks visited–2. Not by me but by the child.

Beach trips–3. I love you, Cape Henlopen State Park

Baseball games attended-3. One minor league, one major league, one in a league not related to MLB (Long Island Ducks. They play in what appears to be a made up league).

Wineries visited–1. Glasses of wine consumed? Lost count.

Tubing trips–1. Never again. One is enough.

Sleepovers and playdates with friends–47? Around that.

TV Shows watched (by me)–4. Mr. Robot, The Night Of, Ray Donovan (binge), Stranger Things (binge)

TV Shows watched (by her)–Not really sure because I won’t let her watch TV with me anymore because fuck you, Teen Nick.

Books read: 21 (by me). 6 (by her).

Mosquito bites obtained–I can’t count that high.

S’mores consumed–I can’t count that high.

Things we didn’t get to do: Hershey Park, Adventure Aquarium, seeing the DC monuments and the Smithsonian, visiting Steph’s beach house. Thankfully there’s still the fall and we’ll be able to do all of this stuff then.

I feel like we really didn’t do a whole lot but I know we did more than what I listed here. Going to the movies, paint your own ceramics, visiting my parents and my in-laws, my husband’s and my trip to Phoenix, cheerleading stuff…I definitely don’t feel like we flittered the summer away but maybe also we did a bit because SO MUCH RAIN. Rain does not make me want to do things.

 

 

 

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Filed Under: Life Tagged With: family, parenting

Lies I tell myself

June 10, 2015 by Jana 39 Comments

My husband has been away for work for the better part of the past week and since my child keeps inviting friends over, I’ve been housebound which leaves me lots of time to binge watch The Fall (creepy as fuck. Watch it if that’s what you’re into) and have conversations with myself. I’ve written before about all the things I think when I’m alone but let’s revisit that topic, specifically lies I tell myself when my husband is away:

What I say: I’m going to get so much done! I’m going to be so productive! I’ll catch up and even get ahead!

What actually happens: Oh, hello, Netflix.

What I say: I will not freak out over every small noise, creek or thump. My unrealistic paranoia will stay in check!

What actually happens: anxiety cat

What I say: I will not eat my body weight in cheese sandwiches and pickles.

What actually happens: I eat my body weight in cheese sandwiches and pickles.

What I say: I will go to bed early and sleep restfully, comfortably and without interruption!

What actually happens: The child and the dogs steal my bed and I’m left seriously debating if I should move them or just sleep on the couch.IMG_0908

What I say: The child and I will spend quality time together doing projects and talking and playing games.

What actually happens: She hangs out with her friends. I spend time with books and Netflix.

What I say: I will clean the house and do all the laundry and run all the errands so when he comes home, we can just hang out and have fun over the weekend instead of doing all that adulting crap.

What actually happens: I spend a substantial amount of hours on Goodreads, internet shop and pretend like we’re rich and I can buy all the things.

What I say: Everyone will be so calm and peaceful and it’ll be so relaxing to not have to monitor the husband’s ridiculous work schedule for an entire week.

What actually happens: I live in a fucking circus.

 

 

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Filed Under: Life Tagged With: family, random, relationships

And then there was sadness

April 27, 2015 by Jana 30 Comments

upOn April 4, I found out I was pregnant.

On April 15, I miscarried.

It’s a strange thing, to have your heart full and broken in the span of 2 weeks.

The thing of it is, I was never supposed to be able to get pregnant again on my own. With this pregnancy, we defied the odds!

And then we became a statistic.

Members of a club we never wanted to join.

 

 

 

Miscarriage grief is unlike any other. Because, unlike most other deaths, and it is a death, there’s not necessarily a cause. There isn’t anyone or anything to blame, and there’s no identifiable cause. It’s just something that happens. And without something or someone to blame, it becomes that much harder to comprehend. You want to understand why or how. And you simply can’t.

And then it becomes your dirty little secret. You don’t want to tell anyone because you fear how they’ll look at you or what they’ll say or that they’ll start treating you differently. Because you’ve now somehow become broken or faulty. Now there’s something wrong with you. You’ve become less than.

Less than what, I don’t know. But you feel less than.

And that’s not even the hardest part. The hardest part is having to continue to live your life. Having to continue to live your normal, regular life paying bills and washing dishes and going to work and folding laundry and taking care of those around you who are still alive. To say it’s painful to go about your normal life when a literal part of you is gone is an understatement. You have to go on, though, because life has to go on.

Even if you don’t want it to. And you won’t feel like you want it to. You don’t feel like life will be normal ever again. But every day it does get a little easier. You’ll cry a little less. You’ll be able to eat. You’ll be able to laugh. You’ll have moments where you forget it happened. Then you’ll feel guilty that you forgot or you laughed or didn’t cry. That’s all okay.

Own your guilt.

But then let it go.

Because feeling guilty won’t help you heal. And that’s what needs to happen. You need to heal. It’ll probably take a long time. No one expects you to move on in a few days. Take as long as you need to heal.

But allow yourself to heal.

As for me, everything is still fresh and every day brings a new trigger. I’m still perpetually sad. I’m still working on granting myself permission to heal. I’m still working on looking in the mirror and not seeing swollen, red eyes. I’m still working on forgiving myself and God and whoever else I lashed out at when it happened. I’m still working on letting my husband help me, and I’m working on helping him and our daughter through their grief. I’ve got a long way to go, we all do, but I know eventually, we’ll be okay.

 

 

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Filed Under: Life Tagged With: family, parenting, random

Jana

I'm Jana ...

A book reading, nail polish wearing, binge watching, music loving, dog owning, reluctant cheer mom.
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